


Youth

by Reticent_Rain



Category: Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, Romance, Slice of Life, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-05 01:06:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18355454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reticent_Rain/pseuds/Reticent_Rain
Summary: Falling in love was never really in Makoto's plans especially with her first year of university underway. But here she was, pinned against the toned chest of her next door neighbour in the dark, moaning his name. Ah, youth.





	1. Epilogue//Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A new plot bunny (do youngin's still say this?) has emerged. I'm not a writer, just someone who likes to make plots in my head.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! If not, then... Okay...

It was often said that every journey starts with a single step. That proverbial first step comes in different forms for different people: a first hello, or a first job, or even a literal first step.

For Makoto Niijima, former student council president of Shujin Academy and former advisor of the infamous Phantom Thieves, it was the entry exam for the Faculty of Law of the University of Tokyo.

And although it was also often said that the first step was always the hardest, there was no proverb pertaining to what one is supposed to do after that first step.

Which was a shame, Makoto thought, as she sat in one of the booths of LeBlanc. The former Phantom Thief was surrounded by her friends, eyes glued to her laptop screen. On it was the unopened email from the university, promising to open it with everyone.

Her admission or rejection letter.

What would she even do if she was rejected? Sure she had applied to other universities, but the thought of not getting into her dream university after saving the world from the tyrannical rule of the false God would leave her bitter.

But more importantly, what would she even do if she was accepted?

“Stop thinking and open it,” Ryuji groaned, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “Knowing you, you got accepted for sure.”

The girl beside him nodded her head. “Exactly. Even if they did reject you, we could always get Futaba to mess with the admissions list.”

The young hacker looked up from her own laptop. “That's illegal, Ann.”

Makoto rolled her eyes but the smile on her lips said otherwise. Leave it to the two to be happy go lucky about this situation. Her focus snapped back to the screen, feeling her heart pounding against her chest. Her shaky hand hovered at the touchpad, fingers millimeters away from the surface.

One click. All she needed to do was to click it. She breathed in, closing her eyes.

It was all or nothing.

_Click._

At first, there was silence. Refusing to open her eyes, she placed all her faith into her friends reading the email for her. She gripped the table, waiting for anyone to speak.

Haru's soft voice broke through. “We are excited to offer you admission to the undergraduate program in the Faculty of Law,” she read aloud.

Makoto's eyes shot open, her hands slamming against the table.

“I got in?” she asked, suspended in disbelief. Her eyes darted to the first line of the email, rereading it over and over again. “I got in!? I got in!”

“I knew you could it!” Ann screamed, launching herself onto Makoto. “I had no doubts whatsoever!”

“As expected,” Yusuke added, casually sipping a cup of coffee by the counter. “I would have been surprised if you _weren't_ accepted.”

Makoto beamed, her smile reaching to her eyes. Months of sleepless nights and endless studying had come to fruition. She leaned back onto her seat and let out a sigh of relief.

The infinite possibilities stretched out before her. Her journey was officially underway.

* * *

It was often said that every journey starts with a single step. But every proverb in the book did not have anything to say when something unexpected happens and people are forced to abandon said journey. Sure, there were some about not crying because it's over but smile because it happened, or how the journey is never ending.

Yet, reality said otherwise.

For in reality, people get stuck in the glories of the past, or they grow old and weary, unable to keep up with the pace of the present and become bitter. Some people get tired, abandoning their own journey to try and find something new, but those rarely work out. Some people straight up die.

“Aoyoma-Itchome station. Doors open to your right.”

And for some people, like Ken Amada, former student council president of Gekkoukan High School and former member of the Shadow Operatives, they find themselves shipped away to another city, forcefully ripped out of the only life he had known.

_Beep beep._

He felt his phone vibrate. It was most likely Fuuka checking up on him again.

“Hey, how was your trip?”

Ken rolled his eyes, trying hard to not be sarcastic at the person who suggested the entire thing. She was, afterall, his senpai who only had the best in mind for him.

“Uhm… lt was good. Pretty tiring though,” he answered, standing up to get off the train.

“Good.”

An awkward silence passed between them.

“Hey,” Fuuka's voice softened, and Ken couldn't stop himself from running his hand through his face. He was always weak to her when she was like this. “It'll be fun. New school, new people. I bet there's gonna be a lot of great food places.”

His stopped just before the row of ticket machines, adjusting his bag. “Yeah, well, it's not Hagakure.”

“You ate way too much there anyways,” she huffed. “Just 'cause Shinjiro went there a lot doesn't mean you need to eat all three meals there.”

He rolled his eyes again. They didn't just serve ramen, for her information. Exiting the train station, his eyes scanned the sea of people going about their own lives. It was the same type of view as back in Port Island but it felt foreign to him somehow.

“Don't forget to watch your diet, okay? And do laundry every week. Keep your apartment clean, I won't-”

“-be there to clean up after me,” he interrupted, finishing her sentence, a small smile in his lips. “Fuuka-senpai, I got it.”

He heard her sigh behind the line at his reassurance. She had slowly become his maternal figure over the years and her constant worrying was endearing at least. But it wasn't the first time he had to live alone. Hell, he lived alone for most of his life. How was this any different?

“One year. That's all we ask,” she cooed into the microphone. “If things don't work out, we'll figure it out, okay?”

“One year?” he repeated.

“One year. I'll visit as soon as I find time, alright? And don't forget to say hi to Narukami-kun!”

Putting away his phone, he stared back to the sea of people in front of him. Taking a deep breath in, he took his first few steps into the unfamiliar city, already making a list of things he needed to do.

Firstly, he needed to find the best ramen place. After all, if he was predisposed to spend the next year in this forsaken city, he might as well try and make the most of it, right?


	2. Change//Constant

Change was expected when entering a new environment. Although Makoto had frequented the university campus for mock exams and tours, it was always in her Shujin uniform. And even though her current outfit was still reminiscent of her old uniform, a standard grey turtleneck layered with a black cardigan, the fact that she was actually coming to school in her own clothes made her excited, however childish that might make her sound.

The campus as well, from the old-fashioned buildings and their intricate masonwork, to the sleek modern glass towers, was a sight to behold. The courtyards were nothing to scoff at too. Lined with cherry blossom trees, they had bloomed late this year, blanketing everything in a peaceful and aromatic pink. It was a breath of fresh air compared to the cramped grey walls of Shujin Academy.

But change didn't always mean for the better, as she found out. The concepts covered in lectures were harder. Readings were longer too, full of technical jargon she could barely comprehend. Assignments came crashing in one after the other. The balance between school and her social life was teetering already back when she was a Phantom Thief, but now, it was on a knife's edge.

And the professors, God, the professors. Most of the professors, tenured and jaded from the years, were a bore to listen to. Their monotonous ramblings barely registered in her brain. More often than not, she would daydream about changing their hearts.

Like right now.

It had been a rough week for her, starting with a bombardment of assignments. It was now Friday and the thought of the weekend made it hard for her to focus.

_Beep beep._

Her phone buzzed from her bag, breaking her away from her thoughts.

_[2:12pm] Futaba: CONGRATS INARI_

She raised an eyebrow at the message. Did something happen?

_[2:12pm] Ann: Wait what happened?_

_[2:12pm] Yusuke: It has been less than a minute since it was announced. Were you eavesdropping again?_

_[2:13pm] Futaba: :^)_

She stifled a laugh, although noting that another talk to their favourite hacker about the ethics of eavesdropping and the value of privacy was needed.

The last three remaining members of their group chat finally went online.

_[2:13pm] Haru: Did I miss anything?_

_[2:13pm] Akira: Hm?_

_[2:13pm] Ryuji: Yo what's happening?_

_[2:14pm] Futaba: YEAH TELL EM INARI_

_[2:14pm] Yusuke: I was planning to surprise you all but someone had to spoil it._

_[2:15pm] Yusuke: One of my paintings was selected for the JIA Illustration Award and won 300 thousand yen._

Makoto's eyes widened in surprise at the number before softening, a smile on her lips. Their artist friend really did deserve all the accolades and more after his time with Madarame. Just like her, he was making progress in his own journey. She placed her pencil down to type out a reply.

_[2:15pm] Makoto: Congratulations! You deserve it!_

_[2:15pm] Akira: Damn! Congratulations!_

_[2:15pm] Ryuji: Holy shit. No f'ing way!!!! Party!?_

_[2:15pm] Ann: OH MY GOD CONGRATS_

_[2:15pm] Haru: I'm so happy for you! Congratulations!_

_[2:16pm] Futaba: Buy me a new graphics card? :3_

She rolled her eyes at their antics, fully disregarding the lecture. She could barely hear the professor anyways. The old man didn't want to use a microphone in a class of two hundred and she was ahead in the notes posted online.

_[2:18pm] Akira: Morgana says to treat him to sushi next time then._

_[2:18pm] Yusuke: Perhaps. But I want to make it up to all of you who have supported me._

_[2:18pm] Yusuke: Hot pot at LeBlanc tonight? With udon this time. It will be my treat._

Makoto's smile grew wider, turning her head towards the window. Grey clouds loomed overhead, the wind slowly picking up in tempo. It was supposed to rain tonight and hot pot during the rain with close friends was a plan anyone could get behind, especially after a rough week.

_[2:19pm] Ryuji: I am sooooooo down_

_[2:20pm] Ann: Don't forget dessert!!_

_[2:20pm] Futaba: yessssss I LOVE YOU INARI_

_[2:20pm] Haru: Count me in!_

_[2:20pm] Makoto: Me too!_

_[2:21pm] Akira: I'll be there too! Just buy my ticket!_

Makoto placed her phone back into its place. Leaning back onto the seat, she let out a long sigh, staring at the lecture hall ceiling with the same smile as before. Even with the huge changes in her life right now, her friends were a constant and she was forever grateful at that fact.

Soon, the lecture ended. Packing her books, she pulled out her phone once more. 4:30pm. Makoto sighed. With nothing left on her schedule for today, there was an awkward amount of time to kill before the hot pot party tonight. She could go home, but the train ride and walk home would take at least 45 minutes and another 30 minutes from her place to LeBlanc, leaving her with barely any time at all.

“Guess I'll head to the library for now” she said to no one in particular, exiting the lecture hall and into the hallway.

Rounding a corner towards the direction of the library, she shielded her eyes from the incoming wind.

“Ah!”

A small thud was heard as she collided with another person. Taking a moment to recover, both pairs of eyes were drawn to the phone face down on the pavement. She gasped, taking a small step back and bowing in apology.

“I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going!”

“Ah, damn,” the person swore in his smooth voice. “Hope it's not cracked.” He slowly picked it up, tilting his head to peek at the screen. Makoto watched as his face turned into a frown. “Damn, it cracked.”

“I'm so sorry!” she repeated, bowing once again.

The stranger stood up, a few inches taller than her, and examined the phone, letting Makoto observe the stranger. From what she could tell, he was around her age. Perhaps another first year student?

He let out a defeated sigh, repeated taps on the screen not doing anything. “It's not working either.”

“I'm so sorry! I can pay for the repair!” she apologized once more. Taking out her wallet, the man extended a hand as if to stop her. She stared at the hand and then onto the stranger who only smiled at her dumbfounded look. So he was stopping her?

“Don't worry about it, okay?” he said. “Are you alright?”

Makoto nodded silently, avoiding the stranger's eyes. She watched him pocket the phone before sighing heavily.

“Uhm… I'm actually new to the city,” the stranger spoke. “I would use my GPS but…”

Makoto swore again, rubbing her temples in frustration. Of course she just broke the phone of someone new to the city. Talk about a hassle for them.

The stranger rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Do you know any electronics stores nearby?”

“O-Oh.” Makoto snapped back to reality. “If it's a Samsoong, there's a store by Shibuya station just outside the main square.” She bowed once more. “I'm still so sorry!”

The stranger laughed softly, a smooth deep one, and Makoto couldn't stop the embarrassment showing through her cheeks. People were starting to notice their situation. “It's just a phone. I'll see you around.”

She watched him disappear through the crowd of students. A sigh escaped from her lips. This week was not going well at all.

* * *

Having lived in Port Island for his entire life, there were constants, Ken concluded, when it came to living in an urban setting. Graffiti, homeless people, high school students in places where they shouldn't be, cramped alleyways, pollution. But regardless of the setting, routine was the name of the game when it came to living. Everyone has one and if they didn't, they would soon be swallowed by the rush of the city or die from boredom of the countryside. For him, his routine was going to school, working out, then grabbing food after.

And today was no exception. Or so he thought.

Staring at the cracked phone in his hands, he scratched his head, planning his next course of action. The Samsoong store that the woman told him about was no help whatsoever, his phone being an older model and all. He could have bought a new phone but the sentimental value of it was too high to be replaced, having received it at the start of highschool. In a way, even the phone was a constant for him.

“Yongen-Jaya Station. Doors open to your right.”

He stood up and exited the train. Thankfully, the Samsoong store clerk was nice enough to point him to another store that might have the parts for his phone and it was only a few minutes away from Shibuya by train. His lips tugged into a smile as he scanned his surroundings, the homely atmosphere reminded him of Iwatodai.

After about fifteen minutes of looking, Ken cursed and ran a hand through his hair. As helpful as the clerk thought he was, the scraggly map they had drawn on a small sticky note was barely any help. Having went down the same alleyway for the third time, he threw his hands up in the air in defeat before crumpling the sticky note and throwing it at a nearby trash bin.

A growl came from his stomach. He usually would have eaten by now. Looking up, the sun had set and the grey clouds slowly rolled in. It was about to rain.

“Damn…”

The first drops of rain started and he quickly dashed to cover, forgetting to grab an umbrella for today. Quickening his pace, he found himself staring at a worn down storefront. Cafe LeBlanc, the sign read. What kind of place was this? Did it even serve food? He tried looking through the glass door but the glass tiles distorted his view. The window beside the door was covered by the curtains. Guess he'll just have to go inside and check. Sighing, he reached for the bronze doorknob and opened it.

_Ding._

The first thing that hit him was the familiar smell of curry, the one Fuuka learnt how to make. The one he'd always bring home every time he'd visit her apartment. The iconic sauteed onion smell brought comfort to him and with the rain pouring outside, the curry would be at least twice as delicious. A smile crept up his face. He made the right choice of going here it seemed.

“You're here early,” a man spoke with a deep jovial tone, not looking up from his newspaper.

Ken raised an eyebrow. Was he expected? Clearing his throat to get the man's attention, he finally looked up.

“Oh, sorry. Thought you were someone else,” the man said, flashing a lopsided smile at him. “What'll it be for you today?”

“Uhh…” He took a few steps inside to view the menu written on the chalkboard above the counter. “One LeBlanc curry please.”

The smell of coffee was more apparent up close to the counter and Ken couldn't help but smile. The quaint atmosphere of the cafe was comforting, his shoulders visibly relaxing and his stress slowly chipping away.

The man stood up straight from his position. “Coming right up. Say, haven't seen you here before. You new to the neighborhood?”

Ken nodded, taking a seat by the counter. “Uhm, new to Tokyo.” He shuffled into his seat, getting comfortable. “For university,” he added.

“Ahhh.” The man was quick with his hands, placing a steaming hot plate of curry in less than a few minutes. “One LeBlanc curry.”

Ken breathed in, mouth already watering from the smell alone. The beef was tender, almost bouncing whenever he touched it with his spoon. He didn't even need to take a bite to realize he found his new spot. He scooped up a good portion onto his spoon and took a bite out of it. The flavour was nothing short of exquisite. He muttered an apology to Fuuka as took a bit of another spoonful. He loved her but the curry in front of him blew hers out of the water.

“Eat up kid.” The man laughed, satisfied, before returning to his newspaper.

_Ding._

About to take another spoonful of curry, his eyes darted to the new arrival putting away their umbrella. He froze.

“Ah.”

Brown eyes locked with red as the two stared at each other in an uncomfortable length of time, the spoon still halfway in his mouth. It was the woman who cracked his phone.

The man looked up from his newspaper, unaware of the awkward situation in front of him. “Ah, Makoto. You're early.”

* * *

 “Ehh? The Samsoong store?” the man who introduced himself as Sojiro Sakura asked. “It closed down a few months ago.”

Ken groaned in frustration, cursing the store clerk that sent him in a wild goose chase. Having explained the situation, his cracked phone laid on the counter, still with no sign of life. The woman, Makoto Niijima, sat beside him, shoulders slouched and avoiding his gaze.

“Uhm, it's okay, you know?” he reassured her. “It's just a phone and I have money to buy a new one.”

She looked up and Ken had to blink, surprised at how red her eyes looked in the light. “But what about your photos? And your contacts?”

Ken furrowed his eyebrows. He did have some of his photos backed up onto a cloud but really, it was mostly photos of Koromaru being cute. Contacts were synced to the SIM card now as well. He sighed. Maybe it really was time to get a new phone. The phone had suffered enough drops anyways.

Sojiro picked it up, a hand on his chin. He seemed to be in thought, turning the phone around. “You know, I bet my daughter can fix this.”

Makoto lit up beside him. “Of course!”

_Ding._

A group of students entered the cafe one by one, putting away their umbrellas and coats. A short girl broke away from the group, waving her arm erratically.

“Sojiroooooo. We're here! Oh, hi Makoto.”

The old man laughed, standing up straight. “Speak of the devil.”

Her eyes met Ken's and she stopped, taking a step back. Did he scare her? He turned to Makoto but she smiled back. “She's just shy is all,” she explained before turning towards the girl. “Futaba, this is Amada-san,” she started. “He needs help with fixing a phone.”

“H-Hi,” Futaba squeaked out, pressing her glasses onto the bridge of her nose. “W-What do you need help with?”

He picked up the phone, and extended his hand towards her. Suddenly, her eyes widened. She snatched the phone, taking him by surprise. “W-Woah! It's an original Samsoong 12S! They only sold this in one city!” she yelled, turning the phone over to look at the logo at the back. The sudden change in personality was a shock.

“Sooo, can you fix it?” Ken asked.

The girl snickered, a glint in her eyes. “Fufufu, fix it? I'll rebuild it!” she exclaimed, pulling out her own phone. “The specs are top notch and ahhh! Upgradable RAM!? Oh! I can upload my custom firmware in too and switch up the hardware and ahhh!”

He turned to Makoto again, concerned about the girl he gave his phone to. He was going to get it back, right? She merely grinned. “It's in safe hands, trust me. I think.”

“Give me a day or two! I'll have this bad boy running like a well oiled machine.”

He resigned to leave the girl alone with his phone. The rest of the group shuffled in, the empty cafe soon bustling with life. A few hellos were exchanged to the rest of the group as they walked towards the end of the cafe up to the attic. A tall pale student bowed while a blonde girl smiled and waved before grabbing another blonde student by the ear. He smiled at their antics before his lips turned into a straight line. They reminded him of SEES too much.

Ken noticed a large bag full of snacks being carried by the tall pale student. He turned to Makoto.

“You guys having a party?” he asked.

“We are!” She turned to him. “I could ask if you could join? You did say you were new in Tokyo,” she suggested, standing up and finishing her cup of coffee.

He shook his head. “I think I'll pass,” he replied, standing up and handing the payment to Sojiro. “You guys seem really close.”

She turned to the staircase where the group was a moment ago and smiled. Ken lowered his gaze. “Yeah, I'm lucky to have them.”

“I'll be going now. It was nice to meet you, Niijima-san.”

“Oh!” She reached out, grabbing the loose part of his sleeve. He swung around, the sudden contact catching him off guard. It took a moment to register that they were staring at each other in silence before she let go and coughed. “U-Uh, can we exchange numbers? I can let you know when she's done.”

“Oh. Of course,” he said with a bit of disappointment in his voice. Was he expecting something even? “Sure.”

Exiting the cafe, he looked up to the night sky. The evening spring rain was relentless, only getting worse as the night went on. With no umbrella or raincoat, he was stuck at the storefront of the cafe. He debated going back inside to ask for one but it would have been too awkward to face the owner who witnessed the whole exchange with Makoto with a smirk on his face.

A second hand shop to the right caught his eye. He ran towards it and after seeing no one running the store, grabbed one of the umbrellas on the rack before leaving a few coins on the counter.

Walking towards the station, Ken stared at the piece of newspaper Makoto had ripped off to write her number on, noticing her neat handwriting. Cute. He caught himself smiling before putting it away in his pocket.

Routine was the name of the game when it came to living. But sometimes, Ken concluded, deviating from that routine could lead to something wonderful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the plot has been finalized, a bit of tweaking here and there with some characters that are yet to join but overall, it's almost there. This chapter was finished a few weeks ago when I started having this idea. Currently editing and rewriting some parts for Chapter 3, 4 and 5 but final exams are almost there so I apologize for the slower upload speed from here on out. I really hope I finish this before either September starts or if I get sidetracked, before Christmas :'(
> 
> Thank you to Infinity_Fool, ANON, WritingSoul, and ReallyLazerReader for commenting! I'm glad that the juxtaposition was clear from the get go since this story really does revolve around their opposing views of life in general. And for why Ken went to Tokyo? Guess you just gotta read on :)


	3. Busy//Quiet

Early morning rays peeked through Makoto's bedroom curtains, the soft crimson light stirring her awake. Eyes half closed, she pressed the pillow closer to her chest and slowly curled her legs in, the feeling of fabric against bare legs unlike any other. She took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled.

The long weekend was a long-awaited reprieve and she was determined to stretch this little moment of peace as long as possible. Having left the window open overnight, the cold morning air made her warm sheets unreasonably enticing.

Her sister shuffled about outside, most likely preparing breakfast. It was a rare occurrence seeing her sister in the morning, usually already gone by the time she would wake up. Thankfully, the national holidays applied to defense attorneys as well.

The sound of sizzling filled the apartment and soon after, the smell of bacon. Mouth watering, she placed a hand over her empty stomach, desperate to try and stay even a minute or two longer in bed.

There was a knock on her door. “Makoto? Breakfast's ready,” Sae called out.

Sighing, she begrudgingly stood up, shivering slightly at the cold morning air. It was time to be productive. Lazily running a comb through her hair, she slowly dressed herself to be presentable. Picking a white button up blouse and layering it with a black top, she spun around her mirror once and nodded in satisfaction.

“Morning,” Sae greeted, pouring a cup of coffee by the counter. Taking a sip, her lips formed a straight line. “I bought the same beans as Sakura-san but it still doesn't taste the same,” she commented.

Yawning, Makoto took her place at the dining table. “Good morning. Did you try to brew it by hand?” she asked, thinking back to how the old cafe owner would brew his famous coffee.

Sae nodded and placed the cup onto the dining table. “I guess we should buy a coffee machine,” she thought out loud, fingers to her chin. She turned to Makoto. “How's my cooking? It's been a while since I cooked but I wanted to try something fancy at least for my day off.”

Makoto bit into the overcooked bacon. Her sister was never really good at cooking but she didn't mind, having acquired a liking to burnt bacon and eggs over the years. “It's edible, isn't it?” she joked but quickly retracted her statement when Sae raised an eyebrow. “I like your cooking.”

Her sister laughed, rolling her eyes. “I'm learning after all these years, at least.” She stood up, reaching into the refrigerator for some cream. “Any plans for the day?”

Makoto pondered for a moment, running through all the classes she was taking for her first semester. A look of genuine surprise appeared on her face. “Oh, I don't have anything!”

“Would you like to go to Akihabara with me then?” Sae asked in a cheery voice. Taking another sip of the coffee, she made a face and stood up once more to pour out the coffee into the sink. “I think there's a holiday sale on kitchen supplies today.”

Makoto's face brightened. Before the whole incident with the Phantom Thieves, she was able to count the days that she and her sister had gone out for the last few years with a single hand. But lately, it was gradually changing thanks to her sister's efforts. Who was she to deny that? Her sister was slowly becoming familiar once more, their apartment slowly become a home once again.

“I would love to.”

* * *

Ken laid awake in bed, his sheets a mess from a whole night of tossing and turning. The morning sun shone bright against his tired red eyes, a sigh of annoyance escaping from him. He took a deep breath in and held it for a moment before letting all out. Try as he might, his body refused to get up.

Days off were the worst.

It broke the routine, the rigid lifestyle he so coveted, leaving him stranded in bed with nothing but his thoughts. And goddamn, did he not want to deal with his thoughts right now.

His stomach growled, having been almost half a day since eating. He eyed the door, hoping that someone would walk in with a hot bowl of miso.

_Yeah, right. Like someone would._

Instead, Ken lazily reached for the newly repaired phone on the side table. The girl, Futaba, ended up keeping her word. The interface was slightly tweaked but it felt smoother, faster, like brand new. The battery life was also extended to obscene lengths that he wondered how gifted that girl really was when it came to technology.

A text notification appeared on the screen. It was from Yu Narukami.

_[8:12am] Yu Narukami: Hey, how are you feeling?_

He rolled his eyes and closed the app without a reply, the text definitely being Fuuka's idea. His senpai wouldn't normally text him out of the blue like this. Scrolling through the other messages, he came across a name.

He blinked, a thought passing through his head. Flashbacks of a certain brunette weaved in and out of his brain as he navigated through the InstaFrame app, searching for her name.

“Of course her account is private,” he thought out loud, sounding a more disappointed than he'd like. His hand hovered over the Follow button. Adding someone after meeting them a week and a bit ago wasn't creepy, was it? He exhaled a breath he didn't realize he was holding in before closing the app.

Another growl forced him to leave his bed. Trudging through the barely furnished apartment, the sound of clattering foodware was heard as he dropped onto the dining table, defeated.

There was nothing in the refrigerator, having forgotten to buy groceries.

He sighed, deciding to eat out instead. Where? He didn't know but surely he would think of something. He sauntered back to his room and started dressing himself, a simple combination of black joggers and an orange hoodie reminiscent of the one he wore as a child.

“One year,” he repeated Fuuka's words to the tired pale face looking back on the mirror. “One year.”

Putting on sneakers, his eyes trailed over to the side where a pair of well-worn cleats sat undisturbed in a bag. He clenched his mouth and paused. How different would it have been if he decided to go? Would it have changed anything?

He shook his head violently. It wasn't the time to think about it.

_But you'll have to face it soon, one way or the other._

He shook his head once more, trying to get rid of the voice in his head. Opening the door, he shivered, cold humid air hitting his face. It was almost May but the mornings and nights were still cool, the last few signs of spring before the hot summer days would once again take over. He let out a sigh, locking the apartment door before making his way towards the station with no specific location in mind.

Back in the apartment, a small puddle of water dripped onto the washroom floor from above.

* * *

 Through repeated trips, one thing was apparent to Makoto. They would be bankrupt if her sister ever made shopping a hobby. She sat by the entrance of one of the many home appliances stores lining the streets, a sizable stack of boxes on her feet. Either that, or they would be banned at a store for her sister's incredible ability to haggle, most of the boxes having another ten or twenty percent taken off of the sale price.

Speaking of Sae, she sat beside Makoto on the phone, arms crossed and clearly unimpressed.

“That doesn't make sense at all,” Sae snapped at the person behind the phone before ending the call abruptly. “Damn interns.”

Makoto lowered her gaze and sighed, already aware of what she was going to say. Despite the best of both sisters' efforts in spending time together, the job of a defense attorney demanded a lot.

Sae turned to her with an apologetic smile. “I'm sorry.”

Makoto shook her head, gazing returning to the bustling streets of Akihabara. “No, it's okay. Next time?”

Her sister nodded, reaching out for her hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Next time.” Sae turned to the stack of boxes. “I'm going to drop these back home before heading out. Do you want to come?”

She placed a finger on her chin, the image of a certain short girl appearing when she thought about what to do in Akihabara. It was a day off after all with no homework or reports or readings to do.

“I think I'll stay. I need to grab Futaba a present,” she replied, planning to thank the youngest member of their group for fixing the phone she broke a week ago.

“Is it her birthday?”

Makoto shook her head. “No, she just helped me with something.”

“Oh, I see.” Sae stood up and stretched. “I'm going to grab the car. Stay here,” she instructed, walking towards the end of the street where they parked.

Her sister soon returned with the car. With a satisfying slam, they finished loading the boxes into the trunk. Makoto wiped a small bead of sweat on her forehead, mentally noting to fit a trip to the gym or run into her already busy schedule. With no mandatory physical education classes and having stopped her aikido training, her body was not as fit as she wanted it to be.

Sae walked to the driver's side. “You going to be okay?” she asked, opening the car door.

“Yep! Drive safe!” She waved goodbye to her sister.

Now all alone in the streets of Akihabara, Makoto walked around, exploring the other stores they've neglected along the way. “Phoenix Rangerman? Phoenix Feathers?” she mumbled to herself, trying to remember the show that the girl was obsessed about.

A store with a large cutout of a girl in a pink latex suit in front caught her attention from across the street. She narrowed her eyes at the cutout. It was one of the members of the group, if she recalled correctly. Finding no other place to try, she crossed the street and entered the store.

The air conditioner inside was on full blast, making her shiver as she walked in. Rows of figurines lined every square inch of the aisles, each a different color than the one beside it. She took a closer look at one of the displays, eyes fixed at the intricate details the models showed, emotion almost showing through the models’ painted eyes. She moved to another display, this time grimacing at the extremely large breasts the figurine showcased. Two types of people in the world, she concluded.

The store clerk pointed her down an aisle, muttering something about “not knowing what Phoenix Rangers Featherman was” to himself. She frowned and crossed her arms at his condescending tone before shrugging her shoulders, not even defending herself. He was right. She was out of her element when it came to these things.

Her fingers traced the boxes as she went down the aisle, trying to remember which ones Futaba already have displayed in her room. A lone box at one of the shelves drew here in. Surely since it was the last box, it meant it was popular, Makoto deduced. Or so she hoped.

She walked over, reaching out to grab the lone box. Another person reached out for the same, fingers brushing against one another’s. She turned to the other person, her eyes widening.

“Ah.”

* * *

 “Thanks by the way,” Makoto said, motioning to the bag in her hand. “I wouldn't have known what to get Futaba without your help. I didn't even know there were so many Rangermen!”

Ken rubbed the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed being caught by someone, her no less, shopping for figurines. “Yeah, don't worry about it. She helped fixed my phone after all.”

In a twist of fate, Ken found himself walking around Akihabara with Makoto, the very girl he was thinking about. His stomach growled violently, his quest for food sidetracked by the district’s charms. And now, he was in a conundrum. To walk around some more with her but starve or ask her if she wanted to eat as well and potentially be branded a creep by the girl he barely knew.

He froze, realizing that he forgot to take a shower before leaving his apartment. Making sure she was busy and facing the other way, he took a quick sniff at his underarm.

“Good, it's okay.”

“What's okay?” she turned to him with a curious look.

He stumbled, stuttering out, “O-Oh, the weather.” His palms were sweaty, knees weak, as she processed his reply.

Her face brightened. “Yeah!” she exclaimed. “Sure beats last week with all the rain.”

Ken clenched his fist in victory. He nailed it. Suddenly, she stopped, eyebrows furrowing. He inhaled in anticipation. Did he celebrate prematurely?

Her free hand reached down to her abdomen. “I think it's time for lunch. Would you like to eat together?” she asked. “I think there's a restaurant just down the street.”

Ken breathed out in relief.

A few minutes later, they found themselves seated at a restaurant booth, the workers in a flurry with the lunch rush slowly ramping up. He fidgeted at the fake leather booth seat, mouth watering, eager to get something in his system.

Ken studied the woman in front of him, her attention completely absorbed by the menu. Her fingers gracefully flipped through the menu pages, making a face at some of the menu items she was reading. He noted her good posture and sophisticated outfit, compared to his hoodies and joggers at least, feeling out of place next to her. She exuded a quirky mix of maturity and, dare he say it, naivety.

“So what are you in university for?” Makoto asked, eyes locking onto his.

Ken blinked, realizing he was staring at her for too long. “O-Oh, Engineering.”

She winced. “I heard you guys are getting bombarded for first year as well.”

He let out a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck once again. “Not really for me. All the classes are pretty easy,” he said, hoping that his words didn't come off as bragging.

She placed a finger underneath her chin. “Were you perhaps an honor student back in high school?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ken took a sip of water. “U-Uh, yeah. I was student council president.”

Makoto let out a gasp “Really? I was too!”

“What about you? What are you taking?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation away from him. It wasn't the proper time to think about it.

“I'm in Law,” she said, placing the menu down and quietly laughing. “Typical right? Student council president going into Law.”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I mean, people are free to do what they want to do in life.” he replied, the sheer hypocrisy in his words making him wince.

Her face brightened at his words. “Exactly! Even if it's typical, it's what I want to do and nothing can change that.”

_Unless you're forced to._

A server finally came, out of breath from being pulled back and forth across the restaurant. They ordered, a hamburger steak for him and omurice for her. The server jotted their orders down before disappearing again to deal with another arrival. Ken watched her struggle, a wave of empathy going through him as the server was yelled at by her supervisor.

“So why engineering,” Makoto suddenly asked, “if you don't mind me asking?”

“Uhm, I guess, I want to… help people. When there's something that normal people can't handle, that's when we come in, you know?” He answered, unsure if it was engineering or the Shadow Operatives that he was talking about. He let out a small sigh. As if she would understand his situation. “You?” he returned back the question.

“Same! I want to help those that don't have a voice,” she replied, a determined look on her face. “The oppressed and the weak, anyone that needs help. I don't want to be the person who looks the other way when someone is being hurt.” She softened, catching herself ranting. “Sorry, I get passionate over this subject. I barely even know you and I'm pouring out this stuff.”

Ken shook his head, a smile on his lips. “No, no. I totally understand.”

_No you don't._

The server soon arrived with their food. Thanking the overworked server, they dug in. Ken let out a groan of relief, something finally in his stomach after almost a day. They exchanged small talk as they ate.

“Oh yeah, you mentioned you were new here in Tokyo!” she exclaimed. “Have you gotten used to the place?”

He turned to the busy streets of Akihabara, watching the crowd go about their daily lives. “It's not much different from where I came from. Don't know a lot of places though.”

Makoto leaned in and rested her head on the back of her hand, tilting it in a way that made his pulse race. “What if I show you around today? We have the day off and it's the least I can do to make it up to you.”

He almost spat out his water hearing her suggestion. To walk around Tokyo with her? “I would love that.”

Makoto gave him a smile that reached her eyes. “Then it's a deal.”

Suddenly, Ken's phone rang. He pulled it out, raising an eyebrow in confusion. It was his landlord calling. He turned to Makoto. “Sorry, it's my landlord. I'll just take this call really quick.”

She nodded and continued eating. Standing up, he approached a server and asked for directions to the washroom. Finding a quiet spot, he answered the call.

“I'm so sorry Amada-san!” the person yelled over the phone that he placed some distance between it and his ear. “Something bad happened!”

“Uhh, what happened?”

He heard some shuffling in the background. “A pipe just burst above your apartment!”

Ken's eyes widened. “What!? I'll be home real quick!” He placed his phone back, nursing the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Dammit!” he cursed.

He returned to their booth, taking a deep breath to try calming himself down. Makoto looked at him with a concerned look and asked, “did something happen?”

“A pipe just burst in my apartment,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. He took out a 5000 yen note from his wallet and placed it on the table. “Here, let me pay for today.” He paused, watching her frown.

“I understand. Life happens, right? Next time?” she asked in a quiet voice.

He studied her, a clear look of disappointment etched into her face.

“Next time.”

* * *

 To say that the apartment was a mess would have been an understatement. He tiptoed around the puddles of water still to be mopped away by the cleaning company that the landlord hired, salvaging the things he could. Most of his belongings were soaked, the leak extending from the bathroom to his bedroom.

There were some good news, at least. His prized possession, a framed photo of him and SEES with their leader, was thankfully not ruined. His laptop, the one that Fuuka built for him, was safely tucked inside its bag as well. The landlord profusely apologized when he got home, returning half of the gratitude money initially paid.

Slowly working through the apartment, he came across a silver briefcase underneath his mostly ruined luggage.

_You wish you could use that._

Ken sighed, placing it inside the box he was carrying for now before continuing to salvage the rest of his belongings. The last thing he wanted right now was a reminder.

Just about to leave, his eyes were drawn to plastic bag near the front of the door. His soccer cleats. He paused, eyeing the bag. It wasn't like he would use it again. Sighing, he bent down and placed the plastic bag into the box, thinking he might as well bring it.

After he salvaged what he could, the landlord directed him to a real estate agent that was available during the day off.

“I'm sorry, Amada-san, but there's no apartments left near your old one,” the real estate agent explained, slightly annoyed at the fact he had to come in during a day off.

They were inside the real estate agent's office, a small corner site converted into an office situated a few minutes away from where his old apartment was.

“Yes there is! Right there!,” Ken snapped back, pointing at the single apartment available for rent in the book between them. “12B Artis Court,” he read the address. “Why aren't you letting me rent it?”

“It's not an apartment a university student can afford obviously. Can't you look at the price?” The agent pointed at the number just below the apartment photo. “Almost three hundred thousand yen a month!” the real estate agent reasoned.

“Three hundred thousand yen a month?” Ken asked, an almost condescending smirk on his lips.

“Three hundred thousand yen a month!” the man repeated. “Now if you could excuse me, I really want to enjoy my day off. Seriously, kids these days don't know their place.”

Ken rolled his eyes, not listening to a word the man was saying. He pulled out his wallet and took out the bank card Mitsuru gave him, throwing it onto the desk. The man suddenly stopped and stared at the sleek black card, mouth agape.

“Now,” Ken leaned in with a serious look, “can I rent it?”

“Y-Yes sir, I'll process it right away!” the man stuttered, struggling to get out of the chair.

Ken sighed once more, shaking his head. He hated using the money Mitsuru gave him but if there was something he learned over the years as a member of the Shadow Operatives, money was able to get people very far. He leaned back onto the seat, hoping the new apartment would at least give him a better view than his previous one.

* * *

 Makoto wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, having spent the last ten minutes collapsing boxes. With two plans cancelled, the rest of the day was spent organizing the items they bought. She checked the time. 6:12pm. Another few hours to kill before bed.

It wasn't like she minded. Important things come up all the time and who was she to stop people from dealing with it. Her sister was trying anyways and that's what mattered.

And Ken Amada, the man she met through coincidence, had his apartment flood. She looked forward to walking around Tokyo together, months since she actually explored the city and what it had to offer, but an apartment flooding is definitely more important.

Ken Amada.

Makoto laid down on the couch, her mind wandering. She liked him, not in a romantic way or course. He was nice enough to forgive her after breaking his phone, helping her pick a present for Futaba, and even paid for lunch. Being a student council president back in highschool, he most likely also had similar experiences with the pains of being one.

“Well, he probably wasn't a Phantom Thief at the same time,” she joked, letting out a small laugh.

She suddenly slapped her forehead. “I can't believe I ranted to him about that,” she groaned, thinking back to the things she said while they were eating. “But he didn't seem to mind though,” she reasoned, turning to the side.

The pile of boxes near the door called to her. Sighing, she stood up from the couch and walked over, grabbing as much of the pile as she could. Unable to see what's in front, she struggled to open the door, finally opening it after a few minutes of awkward repositioning. She placed it onto the hallway, neatly stacking the collapsed boxes to the side for the cleaners to pick up tonight.

She heard footsteps approach.

“Niijima-san…?”

Makoto whipped around, finding herself staring at Ken. “H-Huh!? What are you doing here?” she asked.

She watched him turn towards her apartment door then towards the apartment door across the hallway. He smiled, a pair of keys in his hand.

“Nice to meet you, neighbour.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's Chapter 3! God, writing is hard. There's a lot of things going on right now but I do hope this chapter wasn't all filler-y since it does feel like there's no progression sometimes.
> 
> There's a few subplots and easter eggs that I've planned with this story so I hope you guys can catch it :)
> 
> Thank you to Infinity_Fool for commenting! I have plans actually for Ken to have situations and interactions with every single Phantom Thief so look forward to that! And thank you all for reading!


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